


Their relationship - 1st meeting

by CMDAK



Series: Their relationship [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Minor Violence, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: The door closed behind the two guards but since their innate conversation could still be clearly heard, James ignored how much his leg and arm muscles hurt and remained in his hiding spot. It was a good thing that more often than not, the goons never bothered to tilt their heads back and actually look up but if he made the slightest noise now after they were done checking the small closet, he’d give himself away.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: Their relationship [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842235
Comments: 7
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a very short prequel series that I hope shows why Q and James have a special relationship in 'Their relationship'. Did anyone ask for it? No. Did I have fun writing it? Yes. Do I hope you guys will enjoy it? Definitely.

“Are you _sure_ that there’s no one in here?” A burly man with a surprisingly skittish demeanour asked from just outside janitor’s closet.

“There’s not much space to hide in here,” his diminutive companion snapped, haphazardly waving his flashlight around the admittedly small room. “Just mark this place clean with security already and let’s get out of here. The match is starting and I got good money riding on Liverpool.”

A sigh. “We’re clear here.” The reluctance was clear in the voice but whoever was on the other end did not care. “How much money can you make off of Liverpool anyway?”

The door closed behind the two guards but since their innate conversation could still be clearly heard, James ignored how much his leg and arm muscles hurt and remained in his hiding spot. It was a good thing that more often than not, the goons never bothered to tilt their heads back and actually look up but if he made the slightest noise now after they were done checking the small closet, he’d give himself away. 

Normally he would have dropped down on the two and knocked them out – possibly in the permanent way – but he wasn’t exactly equipped to handle a mansion full of armed guards and, as was tradition, MI6 wasn’t to blame for that.

His original mission had only required his charm and an empty CD – that he was instructed to do his best not to break when bedding whatever woman distracted him. Well, the joke was on his handler! This time it hadn’t been a woman but a file appearing right in front of his eyes alongside instructions to make sure he showed that to his superiors in case they were interested in cutting off weapon and drug supplies to some of their enemies.

“ _The coast is clear_ ,” his handler softly whispered in his ear and James couldn’t be happier because he couldn’t feel his limbs anymore and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to soundlessly drop to the ground. “ _Still, do try not to make too much noise, 007._ ”

“Then invent something that will allow me to silently levitate,” Bond bit back, rubbing his shoulders. It was a good thing no one ever thought of shutting him near them or else he wouldn’t have been able to support his body weight for so long. “You sure I’m heading in the right direction?”

His handled sighed so loudly that it was a miracle their two bored friends from earlier didn’t rush back into the room. “ _I can only give you my best guess here, Bond. Or did you forget that this isn’t exactly sanctioned by the MI6?”_

It was worse than that, actually. The pair of them went AWOL and while it was obvious that the compound James was in belonged to some really bad people, he was still in a foreign country that wasn’t exactly friendly towards Britain without anyone’s approval and his current boffin wasn’t even 100% sure that James was in the right place or that this entire thing wasn’t a trap.

That file appearing out of nowhere like that combined with the obvious digital breadcrumbs that led them here… Under normal circumstances, James’ handler would have instantly notified MI6 but this time, he had the same feeling that James did so proper protocol was damned as well as broken.

“Only if you want to prove just how redundant you are,” James snipped, casually strolling out of the closet, following a low hum that seemed to grow louder the further he went down the badly-lit hallway.

As he stopped around dark-red stains on the carpet, his nerves of steel were helped by the still functional gun he had clutched in his dominant arm. He had a pretty good idea what they were but his training had made it clear that it was best not to think about them and just focus on his end goal.

“ _That should be it_ ,” his handled unhelpfully whispered in his ear as James stopped in front of a large iron door with lots of outside locks on it. “ _Nothing digital locking it, so I can’t help you with it but I can keep an eye on the few cameras that I have access to.’_ Which were conveniently just the ones leading to this floor and the ones on this floor and even he had to admit that it had been too easy to get access to them.

“What would I do without you?” James asked sarcastically as he kneeled in front of the door and carefully pulled out his tools. 

James let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding when the final lock bent to his will and then kicked the door open – grimacing when he heard how loud it creaked – pointing his gun in front of him

What greeted him was not a wild animal that was fed with the enemies of whoever owed this place, an entire army ready to riddle him with holes, or even stacks upon stacks of cocaine drenched money but a lone, skinny figure in front of a PC. “What took you so long?” The man asked in a posh voice that clashed with how he looked.

That voice was supposed to come out of the month of high society lord whose skin never came in contact with dust or anything less than silk but the man before him wore rags that were at least two sizes too big for him and was covered from head to toe in dirt and bruises. James wasn’t even sure if his wild hair was naturally brown or if someone had just dunked his head in a bucket full of mud but his eyes lingered on the crude barbwire that kept the man chained to the PC.

“Staring is not proper, you know,” the man said evenly, though he did not make a move to hide his hand.

“I need a moment to process my anger, so excuse me,” James heard himself say out loud while pocketing his gun. “If you’re the bait—”

“You really don’t have the time for this banter,” the captive interrupted him, holding out his hand. “Give me that _magic_ _stick_ of yours so you can take down this organization before they strike from the shadows.”

Mutely, James does as instructed despite his handler’s paranoid protests in his ear. As far as he knew, you couldn’t turn something into a bomb by magic and there was nothing around that the beaten-up young man could use to blow him or his Quartermaster up the second the USB stick was plugged into a computer. His handler did have a point that they were at a terrible disadvantage and while his gun and earwig survived his phone didn’t so sneaking a picture was out of the question. “What’s your name?”

That seemed like it was a safe question to ask, not too personal, not accusatory and yet it startled the man who was now looking at James like he had asked what his bank account number was, fingers stopping mid-key stroke. “My name…” He muttered, frowning and shaking his head after a moment. “After _they_ fall, I might get it back if I don’t go down with them but until then…” He trailed off and moved his lips as he looked at his fingers like he was counting something. “Q. Call me Q.”

“Q,” James repeated robotically and then stared blankly at the offered USB stick. He had been sick to his stomach before meeting this _Q_ but now he was outraged and boiling with anger. “You’ll hand that yourself to our boffins in London.”

“ _That is the most horrible idea you’ve had yet, 007, and something tells me that I’ll hear even worse ones if you don’t get fired. I have to insist on following protocol when it comes to extracting an enemy’s ally.”_

“Sod that bloody protocol since it’s beyond obvious that he isn’t doing this out of his own free will,” James hissed, momentarily thinking if it was possible for him to get in even more trouble if he ditched his earwig. He ultimately chose to still his hand just because he feared getting snuck upon more than presented with an invoice after probably getting labelled as a traitor and thrown in the deepest dungeon MI6 had. “So what do you say, Q?”

There was a glimmer of hope in Q’s eyes before he caught a glimpse of something on his computer screen. “I say you take this USB already, hide under the cot and stay there until it’s safe to come out.”

“ _Three armed men are making their way over there_ ,” his handler explained, concentrating on whatever he was typing for a second before continuing. _“You might take down two by surprise but the third one would definitely get you. I did notify MI6 of where you are and what we are doing so don’t engage unless you have to.”_

“Get under there already and tell your little friend to stay quiet,” Q barked right in his either ear, visibly in pain from the barbwire that was now digging in his arm because he had moved further than he was allowed.

Q was so weak and thin that if it weren’t for how cold his hands were, James was sure that he wouldn’t even be aware that he was being touched. But he let Q pull and push him, doing his best to fit in the hiding spot and not come to rest on the apparently hidden food stash composed of old biscuits and stale bread or allow himself to be bothered by the ants – and possibly other critters – that were climbing over him to get to their food.

He watched in silence as the better dressed of the trio grabbed a fistful of Q’s hair and pulled him to the door, ignoring the screams Q let out when the barbwire dug deeper into his arm. “I can’t wait to hear how you did it this time, vermin. The locks were on the outside.” He let go of Q at this point but only because he needed space to kick him in the face.

“I won’t be useful if I share any of my secrets with you, now would I?” James wanted to yell at Q that this was not the right moment to be smug even though he acted the same in similar situations. But James didn’t have to worry about snapping in half like a mouldy twig and he had _training_ that helped him separate himself from that moment. “Do you really have time to do this?” Q continued to antagonize in a weak, pained voice.

“You brought him here and let him in,” Q’s captor hissed, resting his foot against his neck. “I bought you to make my life easier—” A loud alarm interrupted cut the man off and he turned towards is bodyguards and barked an order at them in Russian to go see what was happening which was more than James could have hoped. “Now, vermin, I believe you don’t need that sharp tongue of yours to code for me, do you?”

The man had barely pulled out his butterfly knife before James had knocked him out, hands trembling at his side as he struggled to hold back from killing him. He did kick him a few more times to make sure he was properly knocked out before moving to kneel next to the whimpering Q and carefully removing the wire from around his bleeding arm, using his silk tie to stop as much of the bleeding as he could. “I’ll be most upset if you die.”

“Because you ruined your tie?” Q weakly joked, eyes out of focus. “I promise the USB will more than pay for it so just go al—”

“You talk too much for someone who is supposed to be in the middle of passing out,” James interrupted, not quite throwing Q over his shoulder before tapping his earwig to make sure that it was still working. “Now you, my esteemed colleague,” James started to lay it on thick because he knew that he was already asking more than he should, “you have my full attention so please get us out of here as fast as possible and with as little extra damage as you can.”

“ _Sure, sure. Do you want me to turn lead into gold while I’m at it?_ ”


	2. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mandatory flight chapter sprinkled with hints of Q's civilian life.

James was a quick learner. You didn’t get that far in his line of activity if you needed to be told something twice so he had to be like that. For example, he learned very quickly that Q did not like to be touched when he was no longer in any form of immediate danger and if he woke up with a stranger leaning over him.

He also learned three other new things one after another in regards to Q: he could bite hard enough to draw blood, his kick was nothing to joke about even though it felt like he weighed somewhere in the negative numbers, and he was a fast runner even if he was dragging around an IV stand and his legs were still a little bit gelatinous from the cocktail of painkillers and antibiotics that had been pumped into him.

“Monsieur Archer, I will have the both of you evacuated if you do not get this animal under control this instant,” the sort-of nurse with the French accent and missing eye warned as she glared daggers at the still struggling Q that had now resorted to clawing at James’ back.

And Christ did James remember the second fingernail found skin why he hated cates of all shapes and sizes. “Okay, two things: given the amount of money I’m dropping, can’t you give him something to knock him out again until he’s patched up and given that I got directed by someone named _Ivan_ , can you afford to kick us out?”

Her smile was shark-like and James got the impression that she moonlighted as something very dangerous that helped a lot of people in need of organs. “Given that you are our third Mister Archer this week with a very British accent and that you were lead here by a very tall man with scars named _Ivan_ , can you be this picky?”

“Can I be this picky if I pay you extra?” He flashed that special card with no limit he got from MI6 the day he became a double oh and ignored that pesky little voice that he still had in his ear that hissed something about them being tracked down and getting into even more trouble. “Can it also get him knocked out and my back patched up?” He pulled the card back just as the woman was about to grab it.

“No problem with your back but a big problem with the cat,” she said, ripping the card away from James’ hand. “Unless you want him to die but it looks like he finally tired himself out so feel free to bring him back into the room. I’ll make sure they use the best stitches they have and give you something extra for later on when the morphine kicks in.” Her lips twisted into a grin as something flashed in her eyes. “Although, for an extra charge, we can give him morphine but remember that we are not liable for any _issues_ that might result from that.”

“Regular, non-addicting pills will do just fine,” James said drily, following the woman back into the room where he was greeted by the supposed doctor with a curse until the nurse flashed his card on his behalf. “And if you move fast, I’m willing to pay extra. Do it fast and so good that he won’t lose anything – life included – and I’ll make sure to send you a little extra once we get in touch with a licensed doctor.” The smile he flashed them made it clear what would happen if the opposite of what he asked happened.

That pesky voice returned, although this time his handler heralded the end of the world by giving him an actual compliment. “ _M might not have your balls if you deliver her a fully functional genius, so great job with the incentive_. _But can you do something about the biting before he meets M?”_

James doubted M would so much as entertain the idea of _thinking_ about possibly shaking Q’s hand. “It will be a while until this Q has a meeting with M so don’t lose too much sleep over it. Come to think about it, it will be a while until I have a meeting with M so make sure to make it clear that I forced you into this.”

“ _What do you mean—?_ ”

Having said his final word – as well as having just received a confirmation email for two tickets back to London UK on a private, yet somewhat shady airline – James plucked the earpiece out and turned it off, turning his attention back to the situation at hand.

He could not remember dozing off but the next thing he knew, he was staring at a scared Q who was clutching his hand almost hard enough to break his bones. Careful not to startle him more than he already was, James moved to help sit upright and to try to give him a glass of water without having to force Q to let go of him, noting that there was no problem when he was the one touching him.

They didn’t talk and Q was quick to fall asleep. James made sure to keep holding on to his hand because whenever he relaxed his hold, Q started to frown in his sleep and he had suffered enough.

***

The second they set foot on the runway, James started to suspect that Q wasn’t a fan of flying. That became very obvious when they saw the rundown aeroplane and Q once again drew blood by biting down on his lower lip that hard.

“It’s a short flight and I use these guys all the time,” James lied, holding out a tissue. “And I don’t think you can afford to lose any more blood so if you could stop that?”

Q was not buying his bullshit. “It’s a six-hour flight to Scotland in an aeroplane that doesn’t have one of its engines duct-raped on and I’m hoping I can pass out from blood loss so I don’t have to see bits of this flying coffin fall off while we’re 5,000 meters into the air.” He made to bite his lower lip again – probably out of spite this time because it made sense for Q to hate being told what to do, even if it was honestly for his best – but James was quicker than him and just shoved the tissue over his lower lip. “Still the best food I had during a flight. Will I be sitting with you on an actual seat or will you be stuffing me in a crate?”

James regretted not killing whoever that bastard was that _owned_ Q even more. “I can’t vouch that we won’t be sitting on a cheap plastic chair that’s been nailed to the floor but there won’t be any crate stuffing.” Sensing that Q was going to take a single step on his own so he held out his arm for Q to take because after what he just hinted, he sure as hell wasn’t going to drag him kicking and screaming on board.

Q instantly grabbed onto the offered arm and started to take very small and unsure steps forward. “Now see, a proper spy remembers what he lies about and rolls with the punches so you would have vouched for the chairs and then acted surprised.”

“And me without a notepad to write this down.” James was sarcastic by default when he was corrected on something he felt like it didn’t need to be but Q did not catch on to that and genuinely laughed – a noise that was a cross between a snort and a choke that James liked for some reason. “What I can honestly guarantee you is that our arms won’t hurt after we land,” James continued with the bad jokes became it seemed that it helped Q relax.

Granted, when they started to take off – and the plane shook so violently that James was surprised that there was still something left of it to get in the air – there wasn’t anything that he could have said to get Q to stop shaking or to convince him that if he relaxed his hold on his arm enough for some blood to start flowing through it again wouldn’t cause them to plummet to their deaths. And when the turbulences started not one minute after they finally reached the optimal cruising altitude for the bucket of bolts they were in… Well, he was pretty sure that he could nag his Quartermaster into building him a bionic arm.

James thought that landing would also be a harsh experience but Q was excited about it when the pilot announced it, letting go of his arm and move his face away from his chest in favour of glueing it to the little window. “I never thought I’d ever be allowed to see this land ever again,” Q muttered. “If I want to go to my family and never touch a single computer in my life, will you let me or will you force me into yet another basement?”

“Just tell me where your family is and I’ll take you to them,” James said without missing a beat, pleased to see Q smiling softly. There was still hope for him since he still trusted people and James was going to make sure that nothing would change. “And if flying is involved, it will be in a proper plane that isn’t held together by prayers and duct-tape.” Another genuine laugh but since Q didn’t say anything about his family after that, James concluded that the wisp of a man that tried his best to hide his shaking legs while getting off the plane was as alone in the world as he was.

***

By all logic, Q should have been too tired to care about his surroundings beyond if he was in any immediate danger or not. But the second they drove past the ancient iron gates that had always been watched over by two stags carved out of a single slab of rock taken from this one supposedly magical forest with the blessing of a druid of five, Q was suddenly full of energy and _giddy_.

“Didn’t think you’d bring a _companion_ over,” dear old Kincade – gamekeeper and proper master of Skyfall by this point – muttered as he helped James with the bags filled to the brim with brand new clothes after noticing Q’s sorry state.

“He’s someone that needed my help,” James assured him, watching Q measure the distance between his security cameras for a few moments before getting distracted by the stars and how his hand looked— Okay, the legal drugs prescribed by an actual doctor were finally kicking in and he needed to be off his feet before he forgot how to use them. “Please remove the duplicate key for the weapons room from the chain before handing it to him. And take that bag to the room closest to mine.”

“ _You_ don’t have the key to that room so of course I’m not going to give it to someone as out of it as him. And how hard did you hit your head if you think I’m your bloody servant?” Kincade grumpily asked before proceeding to go do exactly as he was asked, looking apologetic in James’ direction when his greeting seemed to spook Q.

This was going to be a rough ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3


	3. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos <3 
> 
> Last chapter of this prequel. I am tempted to do a proper sequel, but it's really up to my muse.
> 
> Hope you have a pleasant read.

The way Q ate in the beginning was indicative of what his status had been up until now. He sat hunched over his plate and wolfed down everything that was on it at an almost impossible speed. If James moved suddenly, he pulled the plate closer to him and looked like he was more than ready to bolt out of there with it. He never asked for more food after he was done, glancing at the pot when he thought James wasn’t looking. Worse still, he hid bread in his pockets, everything indicating to James that Q was expecting him to suddenly drop an act and start using him just like everyone else had.

That way of thinking didn’t fit with what he concluded on the aeroplane until James entertained the idea that Q might have acted like that because he hadn’t been violent towards him and he didn’t want to give him a reason.

He was the worst person in existence to try to have a conversation with someone over their traumas given that he actively ignored his, but he had started building a bridge and he really liked Q so he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t like _that_. So he sat Q down in his favourite part of Skyfall – James’ mother’s greenhouse that Kincade went through great pains to make sure it continued to survive – and did his best.

“You know who I work for, right?” James started after he was done setting up the picnic, seeing Q hesitantly nod with the corner of his eye. “And you know that we’re not the bad guys, right?” Q nodded again but if before he looked ready to wolf down the sandwich in one bite, he was now looking at it like it was poisoned. So James did the only thing he could when faced with such a situation – he took a bite of the sandwich himself before giving it back to Q. “You’re safe.”

“I know you didn’t go rogue,” Q supplied, taking the sandwich back from James. “Well, technically you did when you came for me but you aren’t currently working against your country.”

“Or against you,” James insisted on clearing up. “You can code and hack or you can go back to being a civilian, I do not care. I will do my best to keep you hidden from men like the one a colleague of mine is working on eradicating or from my own employers. Of course, that won’t happen if you don’t help me help you recover and _asking_ for food when you are hungry.”

Q squirmed under his intense gaze so James took pity on him and looked away, carefully waiting for his answer. “It’s a habit,” Q said eventually, reaching with a trembling hand to pick up the bowl full of raspberries – his favourites, as far as James could tell. “I’m working on breaking it but it was literally beaten into me.”

Sooner or later, that man will cross paths with James again and he will remember how angry he felt every time he looked at Q and by the time he’ll be done with him, every bone in his body will be dust. “If you want to talk with a professional about this, let me know and I’ll set things in motion.”

“I’ll think about it,” Q said after a few moments of tense silence, a deep frown etched on his face. “Can we go grocery shopping after this? I’ve discovered that I get really hungry in the middle of the night and your kitchen is too far away from my room when you take into consideration all the horror movies I watched recently.”

James ended up spending 300 pounds on snacks and also getting Q a laptop just because he spent more than one second looking at it. He didn’t question how every last cent he spent was back in his account the following day nor why any of the MI6 tracking programs that he used lost the transaction trail after the third bank transfer out of Switzerland but understood even more why Q had been locked in a safe in a basement, like some kind of a treasure.

***

Though Alec made it his business not to care too much about his fellow agents outside of an exact moment during a shared mission or be too upset when they suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth due to the nature of their jobs, James missing made him antsy. Probably because they had an actual friendship before they got drafted in MI6 and also because both of them made sure to let the other know when they were going dark.

It didn’t happen this time and it irked Alec even more because he knew that James was still alive since his moniker wasn’t up for grabs. M was also bitchier than usual when James was mentioned, grumbling under her breath about ungrateful agents who insisted on making everyone’s lives harder by not only not revealing whatever magical source got them some super special information that which assisted them in dismantling an enemy they didn’t know they had but also by hiding them – she could grumble of hours on end if she was angry enough.

Well, Alec was going to do a lot more than that, especially since on the last mission he was sent on ended up almost costing him his life and the only reason he was forced to work with the most incompetent double oh agent in existence was because James was still MIA.

Knowing exactly where to find the bastard – because he got in touch with every one of their unofficial helpers all over the world and drew a mental map of where James went – Alec requested time off effective immediately, rented a car, and set off to Scotland.

He reached the grandiose domain of Skyfall in the middle of the night and parked his crappy rental right next to James’ beloved Aston, wasting a few seconds debating rather or not he should scratch the car before deciding that punching James would make him feel a lot better than taking his anger out on an innocent car that was promised to him should his original owner die.

The security system was still a joke and the locks were rendered useless by the fact that no one bothered to actually _lock the bloody front door_. The two massive dogs that James had talked about getting to keep Kincade company and also help discourage whatever poor soul _accidentally_ wandered in his house were also nowhere to be found which only served to further fuel his anger at James’ blatant disregard of his own life.

_“She better be real fine,”_ he thought just as he entered the main kitchen because he thought he heard noises coming from there. He was going to get extra pleasure from ruining a romantic diner and he was going to make that very clear to James while eating all of his strawberries and chocolate. Only, the ass sticking out of the refrigerator was neither James’ nor robust enough to be one of James’ usual conquests. “Is James at home?” Alec asked after clearing his throat, masking his surprise at being greeted by the scared green eyes of a wisp of a man.

“I know no James.” His accent was very posh but his frame was that of an unfed peasant from every medieval movie ever made. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”

“An old friend of James—”

“There is _no_ James,” the stranger insisted. “Now get off my property before I call the cops.”

Alec snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Last time I checked, James was the last Lord Bond alive which means that Skyfall is his so cut the crap and tell me where he is. Unless you’re a squatter—”

This time he was interrupted but the stranger head-butting him in the stomach. Alec made to wrap his arms around him and toss him against a wall but the stranger was nimble and quick enough to jump away before that could happen. He was also smart enough to grab something that he could use as a weapon but still dumb enough to grab a pan instead of a knife.

Of course, even with a knife he wouldn’t do too much damage as Alec had recovered and was already in the middle of a charge, kicking the pan out of the stranger’s hands before swirling around with the full intent of elbowing him in the neck. Intent but no delivery as his challenger dropped to the ground and swept his toothpick legs under him, bringing him down.

Alec didn’t waste any time and got back on his feet with a kick up but was surprised once again by the stranger suddenly latching on to his back and biting his shoulder while scratching his chest. He was a quick little bugger, Alec would admit, but he would also be a knocked out one as soon as he threw is back up against a wall with all of his force.

“Alec, he’s wounded!” James’ shout came out of nowhere. “Knock it off already!” Before Alec knew it, the weight was off his back and he was crashing against the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “Are you okay?”

“Probably bleeding to death from…” Alec trailed off when he looked up and saw that James was talking to the stranger – which explained the extra care and softness in his voice. “I’m starting to see a very bright light at the end of a tunnel, not that anyone cares.”

“Q’s a wounded civilian and you’re an active double oh,” James growled, fully focused on a black spot that was rapidly growing right where Alec kicked Q in the arm. “He managed to rip open the last two stitches.” Alec didn’t understand why he was on the end of that scathing look considering that Q had attacked first which forced him to defend himself. “What are you doing getting into fights? With 006 out of all people.”

“Since I didn’t know what 006 looked like, I saw this whole thing as a dangerous-looking man breaking into your house,” Q grumbled, pushing closer to James with absolute fear clear in his eyes when Alec started to move towards him. “I will bite your fingers off if you touch me.” Wounded animals looked less wild than Q did at his moment.

Knowing that Alec would ignore that, James was quick to pick Q up bridal-style and put even more distance between them. “It’s not a light threat, Alec. But if you want to make yourself useful, take my phone and call the doctor in the village and don’t breathe a word about this to M. I’ll come back when I’m good and ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love.


End file.
